" Marco can you hurry up and come take your breakfast, and remember we need to visit your Dad's grave site It's his birthday today." My mother was shouting early morning from the kitchen which was across my room. This had become a routine ever since we'd moved into my grandma's old house in Georgia, Atlanta. From the fast lane life in New York's Long Island to living in an almost run-down 19th-century midwestern bungalow. Before my dad died everything we owned was auctioned away and we had to move to Georgia.
The day he died still remains imprinted in my head to date. My mother got a call one evening during dinner right after they had fought and my dad had left in a huff. One look at my mother's face was enough to say that something was wrong. I remember hearing the news and just going quiet and on to console my mom. He had been involved in a shoot-out with a gang in the neighborhood while he was playing vigilante. Two weeks later he was laid to rest at the public cemetery, where we'd been visiting for the past 2 years.
Our lives had changed for the worse to some extent. I now had to be enrolled at a public school, where everyone seemed to take notice of me. I you didn't like me then you hated me and then there were those who were just unbothered by my presence yet they still took notice. My first day at the new school was kind of rough since I couldn't find my way through the mid-sized campus. This was going to be the most important year of my life, This was my senior year and I had to get a scholarship to Berkeley and accomplish so much by 18.
So here are some rules I had for my senior year:
1. No relationships
2. No more than two friends
3. Always top my class
4. Join co-curricular activities
5. Keep my past a secret
The other rules we will get to them as we move on with my story.